Series

Notation — the series

18 essays on one idea, from the one that introduces it to the one that assumes the rest.
  1. The chain the page counts on. Every way of writing a pitch with up to one accidental, laid out along the chain of fifths and grouped by the pitch class each one sounds as. The vertical axis is what a keyboard has and the horizontal axis is what the page has: the spellings of one pitch class are seven steps of a fifth apart, which is exactly the distance a comma is measured over. Notation did not choose an arbitrary redundancy; it kept the coordinate a tuning system is built in, and equal temperament is the projection that loses it.

    The stave is not a ruler

    A hundred and eighty essays here draw pitch against an axis somebody computed. The one axis every reader already owns is the five lines, and it is not a pitch axis at all: it counts letters. Seven positions carry twelve pitches, so the same vertical distance is two intervals before an accidental is allowed and six after — and the accidental is not an extra symbol on a complete scale but the repair for a scale with five values missing.

    part 1 · scales
  2. Where the two spellings meet, and where they cross. G♯ minus A♭ against the fraction of a comma each fifth is narrowed by — twelve fifths against seven octaves, and nothing else in the calculation. In Pythagorean tuning G♯ is 23.46 cents ABOVE A♭; in quarter-comma meantone it is 41.06 cents BELOW it; the two spellings coincide at 0.09090 of a comma, which is what equal temperament is. A page that distinguishes the two names is exact in every tuning on this line except one point on it, and at that point it is wrong by 0.0014 cents rather than by nothing, because one eleventh is not quite the crossing.

    Two names for one key

    A keyboard has one key between G and A and the page has two names for it. That looks like redundancy and it is not: the two names are twelve fifths apart on a chain, and in every tuning anybody played before the nineteenth century they are two different pitches. The size of the difference is twelve fifths against seven octaves and nothing else — twenty-three cents one way in Pythagorean, forty-one the other way in meantone, and zero at exactly one point in between.

    part 2 · tuning
  3. One pattern, four metres. The same 12-step onset pattern read under 3 candidate metres, each scored by a preference rule set: 3 for a strong position that carries an onset, -2 for one that does not, -1 for an onset that lands off every strong position. The scores are 3/4 -4, 6/8 12, 2/4 -4, so 6/8 wins. The page prints 3/4, which the model does not prefer — it ranks 6/8 above it. Nothing about the sound differs between these readings; the bar line is supplied by the listener.

    The time signature is a claim

    A bar line is not a measurement. It is a claim about where the accents are, made before the sound exists, and there is a metre-induction model here that can be handed the same onsets and asked whether it agrees. On a hemiola it does not: the page says three and the model says six, by a margin of twelve against minus four. And on a bar of seven the signature is not even a candidate — what decides the reading is the beaming, which the signature does not contain.

    part 3 · rhythm
  4. A dynamic mark is an instruction about the spectrum. Six dynamic markings, given a hammer velocity each in a stated sequence of factors of two, with what the string then does. The level rises 35.1 decibels from pp to ff, which is the part everybody means. The contact time falls from 2.26 to 0.95 milliseconds, so the first null of the hammer's own pulse moves from partial 2.5 to partial 6.0 and the spectral centroid rises by 56 per cent. The partials between those two nulls are not quieter at pp; they are not there.

    The mark that is not a level

    There are six of them, they carry no units, and a performer has to turn one into a number before it means anything. What they instruct is not loudness. On a struck string a harder blow shortens the hammer's contact from 2.26 milliseconds to 0.95, which moves the first null of its own pulse from the third partial to the sixth: the partials between those are not quieter at pianissimo, they are gone. A fortissimo is a different sound, and the page has one word for both things it changes.

    part 4 · timbre
  5. C4, in every place it can be played. A guitar neck with the 4 places C4 can be stopped, drawn at the fret spacing a 64.8-centimetre scale actually has. The stave writes one note and the tablature writes one of these; each notation says exactly what the other leaves out. The speaking lengths run from 61.2 down to 27.2 centimetres, so a hand plucking 12 centimetres from the bridge meets between 20 and 44 per cent of the string.

    What a tablature keeps

    Middle C can be stopped in four places on a guitar. The speaking lengths run from 61 to 27 centimetres, so a hand plucking twelve centimetres from the bridge meets between a fifth and nearly a half of the string, and the comb of missing partials is different at every one: the second partial is thirteen decibels stronger in the best position than in the worst. A stave writes one note for all four. A tablature writes four different things and cannot say which note any of them is.

    part 5 · instruments
  6. What one progression leaves open. Realisations of I–IV–V–I in four parts with no parallel fifths or parallel octaves, counted exactly by a dynamic programme over the voicings rather than sampled. The chord symbols admit 16,100,352,296; the Roman numerals 59,418,496; the figured bass 2,042,672. The three notations differ by four orders of magnitude, and every one of them was in daily professional use.

    Three notations, one progression

    A figured bass, a Roman numeral and a chord symbol are three professional notations for the same four chords, and the number of four-part realisations each of them admits can be counted exactly rather than argued about. With no parallel fifths or octaves the counts are sixteen billion, fifty-nine million and two million: a factor of eight thousand between the loosest and the tightest. What each one collapses is what its tradition thought a chord was, and the three do not agree.

    part 6 · harmony
  7. The staff holds 11 positions and nothing fits in it. Each clef's eleven staff positions — five lines, four spaces and the space either side — as a bar on an axis that counts letters, with eight ranges laid underneath. The clefs step through the axis in thirds and cover fifteen positions of offset between them. Every range drawn is wider than eleven positions: the four voices span 13, 12, 13, 13 and the four instruments 24, 24, 25, 23, so the best clef for each still leaves 1 to 7 positions off the staff. A clef is a choice of which end sticks out.

    The clef is an integer

    The first essay on notation found that the staff's vertical axis counts letters rather than pitch, and named the clef as a question it was leaving open. Paid, it is arithmetic: a staff holds eleven letters, no voice or instrument is that narrow, and the eight clefs of European practice step through the axis in thirds — a spacing that buys everything a set of fifteen would buy on a wide range, for eight.

    part 7 · scales
  8. What eleven positions cover, at seven to the octave and at twelve. A clef's 11 positions, read as a range, in three systems. At seven positions to the octave they cover 1.57 octaves — an octave and a fourth, which is the seventh rung's own number. At twelve they cover 0.92. Writing a 44-semitone range then takes 3 staves and about 15 ledger positions on the staff, and 4 staves and 33 on a chromatic one. The accidentals a chromatic staff removes are paid for in vertical space, at a rate the two integers fix.

    The notations invented for the overflow

    Every proposal to replace the staff since the seventeenth century is a response to a specific overflow, and the commonest one — a chromatic staff with twelve positions per octave instead of seven — makes a trade computable from the same two integers the clef essay counted. It buys the accidentals outright and pays 40 per cent of the range, three ledger positions for one, and twenty-three enharmonic distinctions that are not merely absent from the page but unrecoverable.

    part 8 · scales
  9. What the engraver used here gives a note, measured off the page. The horizontal distance VexFlow allots each duration, read back off a formatted system rather than quoted from a manual. It is not a power of the duration: it is a constant of 58 points plus 15 points a crotchet, and the constant is 93 per cent of the width the shortest note here gets. A note four times as long as another is about 2 times as wide, not four. The floor is the notehead, its stem, its accidental and the space a reader needs to see them as separate events — which is a claim about legibility and not about time at all.

    The axis that is not a time axis

    Eight earlier essays have measured the staff's vertical axis to a position. Its horizontal one has never been asked about, and the answer is that it is proportional to nothing: measured off the typesetter used here, a note gets 58 points before its duration is considered at all and 15 points a crotchet after — so the constant is 93 per cent of what the shortest note gets, and a note four times as long is not four times as wide.

    part 9 · scales
  10. How much music each notation fits on a page. The two axes multiplied. Vertically, a system is as tall as the staves the range needs; horizontally, a system holds as many notes as fit once the shortest is wide enough to read. the staff, seven to the octave: 3 staves to the system, 4 systems and 38 notes to a system, 152 notes to the page — 46 seconds at 100 beats a minute, so a page turn every 46 seconds; a chromatic staff, twelve to the octave: 4 staves to the system, 3 systems and 38 notes to a system, 114 notes to the page — 34 seconds at 100 beats a minute, so a page turn every 34 seconds; a whole-tone staff, six to the octave: 2 staves to the system, 7 systems and 38 notes to a system, 266 notes to the page — 80 seconds at 100 beats a minute, so a page turn every 80 seconds. a whole-tone staff, six to the octave holds 2.33 times what a chromatic staff, twelve to the octave does, which is a difference of 1.00 page turns a minute — and a page turn is a thing a player with two hands occupied cannot do.

    How much music a page holds

    Nine earlier essays have measured notations, and every one of them is a page — a two-dimensional object read in a fixed order by a reader who has to turn it. One measured the vertical axis and another the horizontal, and multiplying them gives the one design constraint on notation that is not about legibility at all: a chromatic staff turns pages a third more often than an ordinary one, and a proportional spacing rule turns them nearly twice as often as a columnar one.

    part 10 · scales
  11. Every standard rastral size against the two bounds a reader imposes. Print the notes larger and the eye-hand span stops fitting inside one fixation, so the reader has to saccade ahead faster than the eye can move. Print them smaller and a notehead stops subtending enough angle to be identified. Both bounds come from the reader and neither from the music. At 100 beats a minute with 2 notes to the beat, the acuity bound sits at 1.63 millimetres and the saccade bound at 7.5 — so the saccade rate is nowhere near binding and acuity is doing all the work, which is the opposite of what the eye-hand span suggests. 5 of the 9 standard rastrals clear the acuity bound: rastral 4 and larger. Those are exactly the sizes used for parts, and the ones below are used for study scores — which are read at a desk rather than played from at a stand, and a shorter viewing distance moves the bound with them.

    The page is read by an eye

    A sight-reader's eye sits a fixed number of notes ahead of the sounding one and a fixation takes in a fixed number of millimetres, and the spacing rule converts between them. Two bounds follow, from the reader rather than from the music — and the one everybody would expect to bind does not. The saccade rate has enormous headroom at any playable tempo, and what decides is acuity.

    part 11 · scales
  12. The same eight notes are four times as much to read. How many bits each note of a line carries, taken as minus the log of the probability of the interval that reached it, under the distribution of melodic steps measured over the tunes used throughout. A scale costs 1.76 bits a note and a wide leaps costs 7.02 — a factor of 4.0 at the same number of notes on the page. Every quantity computed until now counts notes, and the page cannot tell these apart: eight quavers are eight quavers of horizontal space whichever line they spell.

    A reader does not read notes

    Eleven earlier essays count notes, and the page cannot tell one line of eight quavers from another. A reader can: a scale of eight is one object where eight leaps are eight. Measured against the melodic interval distribution, the same eight notes are four times as much to read — and the eye–hand span, the best-measured quantity in the reading literature, is four notes of a tune and one of a leaping line.

    part 12 · scales
  13. A notehead in four parts costs 1.30 bits and one in two parts costs 1.89. What one notehead asks of a reader, against how many parts are on the page, for a progression realised by the voice-leading solver used here at 2 semitones of motion a voice a chord. The horizontal rule is a note of a single melody under the measure established earlier, 1.89 bits, which is what a texture costs when its parts have to be read one at a time. The bars are the harmonic reading: the chord, charged at the worst case of 2.81 bits for one of seven diatonic degrees, plus the logarithm of how many voicings of it the previous chord could legally have moved to. At two parts there is no bar, because a duet has no complete voicing of any triad — it cannot state the harmony and has to be read as 3.79 bits of two independent lines. Every thicker texture is cheaper a notehead than the thin one, and the four-part figure is an upper bound.

    Four parts are easier to read than two

    Twelve earlier essays read one line, and a score is several at once. Measured through the voice-leading model, a notehead of a four-part chorale asks a reader for 1.30 bits and a note of an independent line asks 1.89 — so twice the ink is less than three quarters of the load. The reason is a boundary those essays already established: a duet has no complete voicing of any triad at all, so two parts cannot be read from their harmony and have to be read as two melodies.

    part 13 · harmony
  14. A note on the downbeat costs 1.89 bits and one on the offbeat 5.70. What each position in a bar of 4/4 asks of a reader, by two routes. The solid bar counts where the notes of this collection's own three tunes actually fall — 28, 2, 26, 4, 28, 0, 16, 0 notes at the 8 positions — and takes minus the log of the frequency. The rule across each bar is the same quantity from the stated metrical weights, 1, 0.15, 0.5, 0.15, 0.85, 0.15, 0.5, 0.15, normalised and logged the same way. Nothing makes the two agree. They put the eight positions in the same order, and they price the tunes' own rhythm a fifth of a bit apart — while differing by more than a whole bit about the quaver after the downbeat, which two notes in a hundred and four ever use. The two positions these tunes never touch at all are drawn at the floor, which is the same floor the melodic measure gives an interval nobody plays. A weight was always a probability waiting to be read as one.

    Where the note is costs more than which note it is

    Thirteen earlier essays measure a page, and the three that price a reader price only its pitches — every line they measure is a run of equal notes. A metrical weight normalised by its own sum is a probability, and minus its logarithm is bits — the same substitution made earlier for intervals. Measured over the tunes used throughout it comes out at 2.23 bits a note against the pitches' 1.89, so the larger half of a reader's load is where the note is.

    part 14 · rhythm
  15. The term that was owed, and the corpus cannot hold it. For each of the three tunes everything here is measured on, how many of its notes have a duration that differs from the gap to the next onset. The answer is none, in 101 notes: these tunes are stored as a list of pitches and lengths with no rests in them, so a note's duration IS its inter-onset interval and conditioning one on the other leaves exactly zero bits. That is a fact about the representation rather than about music. The prediction was that the term would be small, and it could not have been known that the corpus would make it identically zero — which means the prediction cannot be tested here and the exceptions have to be priced directly.

    A note lasts until the next one starts

    Pricing where a note is against which note it is left duration as the term it had not, with a prediction that it would be small. Measured on the three tunes these readings are built on, it is exactly zero — and it is zero by construction, because those tunes are stored as pitches and lengths with no rests in them, so every duration is its own inter-onset interval. The prediction cannot be tested on the corpus that produced it. Priced directly, a rest costs 0.67 bits a note where a tenth of the notes have one, which is not well under half a bit.

    part 15 · scales
  16. A tie is charged twice, and the second charge is the larger one. What a tie costs a reader, against the share of noteheads that are the second of a tied pair. The lower curve is the decision itself — is this notehead an event or a continuation? — at 0.52 bits a note where a tenth of them are tied. The upper curve adds what the extra noteheads cost on every other axis: a tied continuation has a pitch and a position and is read like any other notehead before the reader discovers it carries no event, at 4.79 bits each. The total is 1.05 bits a note, which is 2.0 times the decision alone and is a fifth of what a whole note of music costs. A tie is the most expensive mark on the staff per occurrence, and every published account of notational difficulty treats it as a minor one.

    The notehead that is not a note

    Every quantity so far is charged per notehead, and a tie is the one mark on the staff that puts a notehead on the page carrying no event. Its cost is not the decision that identifies it — that is half a bit where a tenth of the noteheads are continuations. It is the decision plus the whole reading of a notehead that turns out to have been unnecessary, which is 1.05 bits, twice the decision and a fifth of what a note of music costs. Set beside a dot and a longer note value, the tie is five times the price of either and is the only one of the three that can cross a barline.

    part 16 · scales
  17. Leaps do not fall where offbeats do, and a reader gets the difference free. Where each size of melodic move actually lands in the bar, over the 101 moves of the three tunes measured here. The two axes are priced separately everywhere and they are not independent: the mutual information between them is 0.31 bits a note, which is 20 per cent of the smaller of the two. That is the amount the sum over-charges. A reader who has seen where a note falls already knows something about how far it moved, so the joint cost is 3.47 bits rather than the 3.79 the two axes add to — and every reading load computed so far is high by the difference.

    Leaps do not fall where offbeats do

    Every reading load computed so far is a sum of two terms priced as though the axes were independent, and an earlier essay named the interaction it could not reach. Measured on the same hundred and one notes every other essay uses, the mutual information between how far a note moves and where it falls in the bar is 0.31 bits — a fifth of the smaller axis, and a sixth of a note's total load. Every reading load published so far is high by that amount, and the quantity saturates at exactly the grid the tunes are notated on, which is the check that it is measuring the music rather than the grid.

    part 17 · scales
  18. One number a page, and what a hard rhythm buys against a hard tune. Every combination of six kinds of line and seven kinds of rhythm, placed by what each axis costs a reader. The duration term (0.67 bits) and the interaction (0.31) are the same for every cell, so the diagonals are pages of equal difficulty and the exchange rate between the two axes is the slope of one. The pitch axis spans 5.26 bits across the six lines and the position axis 4.46 across the seven rhythms, so a composer choosing between the hardest line and the hardest rhythm is choosing between quantities within 18 per cent of each other. The hardest page is wide leaps in off the beat at 14.0 bits a note and the easiest is a scale on the beat at 4.2.

    One number for a page

    Four terms and an interaction give a single bit rate per note, and with it the exchange rate a long run of essays has been pointing at. Six kinds of line span 5.26 bits and seven kinds of rhythm span 4.46, so a composer trading a harder tune against a harder rhythm is trading quantities within eighteen per cent of each other — and pages that look nothing alike sit on the same contour. The hardest page on the grid costs 13.96 bits a note and the easiest 4.24, a factor of three and a half, and the subject closes there.

    part 18 · scales

All series